Kage no Kokoro revised edition
by Laitoste
Summary: A tale told before many of the main events of the Dragon Knights manga. Yaoi. If you have ideas for the story, feel free to e-mail them to me.
1. Chapter One

I'm back and better than ever, with fresh ideas and a new obsession with yaoi. You can expect to see a lot more boy-on-boy action in this revised edition of my fic. I will leave the original story up, but I'll only update this one. Even if you've already read the original fic, read this revised one all the way through. I know it's asking a lot, but you'll miss certain alterations and nuances that were not present in the original story. Thanks for all your support. It's because of your reviews that I've even remembered that I have this story...and I'm updating because so many of you demanded it. So here you go! A long overdue update after over a year of nothing!  
  
-Laitoste

NOTE: I realize that the storyline in the manga is a lot further along than what is presented in this story, but pretend you didn't read any of that. I originally wrote this to be set around the fourth book or so, so just go along with it, alright? It gets better.  
  
Chapter One  
  
"No, please, spare me!"  
  
"Shut up old man!"  
  
"Please, I beg you, don't do it! My family will hear of it! They'll come after you, and then...no!"  
  
A sound like a tortured animal rang throughout the forest, followed by a dull thump as the poor victim fell to the ground. Bierrez laughed, "You don't have a family anymore, weakling,"

He licked the blood from his fingers as it dripped and ran in thin streams down his forearm. This arm was not his own; a good friend had died giving it to him when that pet of Lykoleon's ripped off his original, giving Bierrez greater demonic power than ever. The hand at the end of this new appendage could more than double in size and release venom into whatever flesh it pierced, not to mention the claws. This power was further increased by the alchemist Kharl, who enhanced Bierrez's talent with poison and granted him the ability to fling small paralyzing demon larva at his opponents. As his hand returned to it's normal size, Bierrez crouched to study his handiwork, admiring the gaping hole he had inflicted upon the old man's throat. Still snickering, the demon kicked the corpse and started to leave, but stopped short. A prickle ran up his spine, and he sensed eyes upon him.  
  
"Who's there?" he called into the trees. Silence. Bierrez glared about, continuously moving to make for a harder target. A light breeze rustled the deep green foliage and made the perfume of the flowers at his feet waft through the cool evening air. Still suspicious, the demon wiped the remainder of the blood staining his right hand on the lush grass and left. As he walked through the thickly strewn plant life and wove between the trunks of monstrously tall trees, Bierrez failed to notice the pair of intensely focused eyes, blazing crimson and tracking his every move. Without so much as a whisper, the watcher melted back into the overgrowth, and stalked the wary demon on wings of silence.  
  
The orange sun was setting in the west; its fiery light pierced the treetops and filtered into the forest and cast long shafts of fading color. The leaves rustled in the high branches, some falling and fluttering to the deep darkness of the forest floor. A sudden burst of icy wind swept through the boughs and loosed a splash of red and golden leaves that rode the gust like fire birds in a hurricane. A clawed hand flashed from a nearby shadow, and Bierrez stepped out, delicately holding one of the descending licks of flame.  
  
"Damn that alchemist, cursing me with this arm!" he growled, "Of course he increased its power, so he could turn around and use it through me!" Bierrez crushed the dead leaf, and cast the pieces to the quieting breeze. "How could I have been so stupid?" Frustrated, the demon began to pace, "It's all Shydeman's fault anyway. That self-absorbed peacock sent me to retrieve Cesia from the very home of the Dragon Lord. Out of the palm of his hand, no less! He may as well have told me to revive Lord Nadil and slay Lykoleon while I'm at it, and then maybe fetch him a bit of human flesh for him to snack on, the worthless pig."

Bierrez whirled around and kicked the tree behind him out of sheer anger. "I'll bet he arranged Lord Nadil's death, just so he could be in charge of the demon army. If you ask me, Shydeman isn't worth his weight in demon shit, let alone be given control the entire yokai force. But wait," he stopped dead, and rubbed his chin in thought, "If he has control of the yokai army, then why is he sending me to get Cesia? And why is that brat of a girl so important anyway? She couldn't even eat like a demon. I'm not even sure if she is pure demon. Why would a half- breed like her be so damn important that the Dragon Lord protects her, along with that murderer Rath?"

He sat down on a large tree root protruding from the ground and smiled when the sun finally sank, leaving the air abruptly cold and the forest drowned in shadow. His green eyes shone without light, for demons can see even in the abyssal black of a night without stars or moonshine. Even so, the world around him was tinged with deep blues and dark violet, a wash of gloom that pervaded everything and extended past the four horizons, the perfect concealment. Those who wished to be unseen and unnoticed traveled and worked their deeds under the cover of black nights like these.

Bierrez considered slaughtering more hapless villagers just to vent his anger, but that would eventually attract unwanted attention. He couldn't afford to be noticed, not now at least. Stealth would serve his purpose better. After his first failed attempt at seizing Cesia and returning her to yokai hands, the Dragon Lord would be doubly watchful and cautious. Lykoleon probably had Rath following that brat around like a dog. Bierrez shivered with pleasure at the thought of exacting his vengeance upon Rath for the loss of his arm, and for keeping from him the one thing that could set him free of Kharl's power: Cesia. No matter how hard he thought about it, all the threads tied at that mysterious girl.  
  
Humph. She could at least be hot or something. That way I could have a bit more motivation, Bierrez thought numbly. He shifted uneasily on the tree root, trying to get comfortable. He hadn't forgotten about the feeling he'd gotten after he had killed that old man, and was contemptuously trying to hide his fear of being followed.  
  
Just the sort of thing Kharl would do, Bierrez thought in a sudden flare of anger. Kharl. He would know more about this. He must know something that he was withholding from Bierrez; Kharl wasn't the author of the demon bible for nothing. The shady alchemist must have deep, dark secrets about the race of yokai that he kept only to himself, things long forgotten in the cataracts of time. Perhaps he knew the secret of Cesia's worth... why was she so vital to the demons? What could a lone girl have that the entire yokai army didn't? Bierrez shook his head, his long strands of hair flowing with slow grace. It wouldn't do anything for him to sit here and simply ask the empty air. He needed answers to his questions. Answers that only the one-winged angel possessed.  
  
"I'll go to him," Bierrez said suddenly, "and I'll rip the snake's throat out if he refuses to tell me anything. I have to know." The demon stood in the darkness and flexed his claw, which was growing steadily. "I must know."  
  
With that, Bierrez whirled about, and with a sound like rushing wind, slashed a deep gash in the thick bark of a nearby conifer. The scaly trunk seemed to wither before his very eyes, and before long was cracking with the weight of itself. As brittle leaves drifted in a rising breeze, Bierrez laughed passionately into the blackness of the night.  
  
"Soon, I'll be free of that bastard Kharl. Soon, Rath will suffer as I have! They all will! Every one of the Dragons!"  
  
Disclaimer: I do not claim to own any of the characters, places or anything else associated with Dragon Knights. These belong to Mineko Ohkami. All I can do is dream and write fanfics! .


	2. Chapter Two

Shut up and be patient...the yaoi's coming.

-Laitoste

A dark shadow swept over cracked, crumbling steps as it made its way to the topmost tower of the castle. It moved purposefully, and with a cool kind of confidence that comes from many years of practice, practice that becomes experience, and eventually that experience becoming habit. So it was no surprise that the mysterious figure moved in almost complete silence, the only sound being the faint clicking of feet on stone as it carefully climbed the winding staircase and the occasional burble from the large, rather ragged looking bird on its right shoulder. There were no pictures adorning the gray walls of the corridor, no tapestries depicting heroes or fair maidens, no windows even to let in the light of the outside world. There was only the harsh rock caked with thin layers of ancient grime, the chipped blocks of stone lending a sense of foreboding and iniquity.  
  
However, the cloaked shadow paid no heed to the dust, dirt, the squeak of rats or the overall disheartened aura of the passage in which it trod. Instead, it simply kept on climbing, up and up, past a seemingly endless array of bricks of rock and stairs of stone, until it reached a point where the air was not so thick with shallow apathy. It stood on a small balcony, positioned so one who looked from it could see in all four cardinal directions at once, without interference from the rest of the castle's many spires that lanced into the darkening sky. It was a perfectly constructed watchtower. The shadow squinted into the light, for though it was the daylight's death in the twilight, it was still much brighter than the hole it had ascended from. Reaching back, the dark figure pulled back its hood to reveal the face of a young man, though one look at him would be enough to determine that this creature was not human. Sharply pointed ears adorned with exotic earrings, unruly white hair, and the slitted eyes of a cat; no, this was no human, nor an elf. This was a yokai. The renkin wizard Kharl, author of the demon bible, manipulator of lives and herald of chaos, now stood as close to heaven as he would ever be.

"Do you feel it? Right Bird, do you feel him coming?" Kharl turned to the feathered mass on his shoulder, inquiring. The bird only squawked and preened its black and blood red plumage, peaceably ignoring the question. Its master merely smiled, his fangs barely showing between his lips. "Bierrez, you fool." Kharl stroked the matted head of his pet, "You didn't even bother to mask your presence as you made your way back to me."  
  
A sudden gust of freezing wind struck the tower, blowing red feathers from Right Bird and whipping the pale hair of the yokai back and forth across his calm features. It sang and howled like a lone wolf as it rushed through the turrets and gaps and spires of Kharl's castle, swirling with the speed and ferocity of a dragon's wingbeat. The alchemist narrowed his already lean eyes, their yellow hue reflecting his tainted soul and his malicious intent.  
  
"Let us wait for him, Right Bird. Yes, that would be best." Kharl flexed his long, slender fingers in anticipation, "We shall let him come to us, that we will."  
  
Without another word, he pulled his hood back on and disappeared down the staircase as subtly as he had emerged. His bird let loose a wail that echoed from the depths of the tower and out into the open air, sounding with shattering clarity all the way to the edge of the thick forest that surrounded the castle. It rang and reverberated throughout the majestic trunks of the immense trees, their russet leaves shaken from their precarious perches on the topmost branches. Just as the remnants of the wretched screech began to subside, a figure stepped out from the ring of trees and into the realm of the stone citadel, cautiously removing his clawed hands from his ears.  
  
"Damn," Bierrez hissed, "He knows I'm here." The demon made his way slowly to the entrance, giving the rest of the castle only a brief glance, refusing to look any closer at his enemy's dwelling. He would not let himself be intimidated by the alchemist. However, in his effort to keep his eyes fixed on the thick stone door in front of him, Bierrez failed to detect the faint flicker of a swiftly moving silhouette that played across the scrubby grass at his feet. Before he could draw another breath, it had vanished behind the wide base of the closest tower, leaving not a trace of its secret presence.  
  
Bierrez reached the door, and without a second thought, reached down to the rust encrusted handle that was shaped like the head of a giant bird. As he gripped the cold metal and started to push the door open, the yokai felt a spark of pain pierce his skin and found that he could not move his hand.  
  
"What the hell? I'm not in the mood for this, dammit!" Bierrez yelled in frustration. He leaned back and used his free hand to claw at the bird- faced handle that held him captive in its small, yet surprisingly sharp beak. It did not yield to his anger, or to his pathetic struggling. Cursing under his breath, Bierrez was about to attempt to kick the rusty handle clear off when, without warning, the stone door flung itself open, sending the demon sprawling into Kharl's less than comforting abode.  
  
He rolled through the fractured rock of the archway, for the bird's beak had released his bleeding hand when the door had suddenly opened, and continued to roll in the thick carpet of dust and grunge until he hit the base of a grand sweeping staircase. Well, it had been great at one time. In its current state, it didn't look much better then the cracked floor Bierrez had tumbled on. The many marble steps were all chipped and broken, the railing was torn off in places, and it was thick with the scent of demon and one other, a stranger smell that did not seem to be from something tangible yet present all the same.

Disoriented, Bierrez simply lay where he had fallen and stared blankly up at nothing in particular, ignoring his hand with its deep cut, though it throbbed with pain. It wasn't long until the yokai regained his senses and staggered to his feet, brushing himself off indignantly.  
  
"I'll get him for that," he threatened, "I'll make him pay dearly for getting me involved in this game of his." He examined his wound, licking the blood that dripped from his long fingers, and cursed.  
  
"You even fight dirty, you damn alchemist! That stupid handle of yours bit my right hand, on purpose no doubt!" He licked his cut again, just to be sure, and hissed to suppress his fury. "It's poison alright. Even if it is only paralysis, I can't fight Kharl unless I get myself a weapon. He's such a coward, afraid of the very skill he gave me. Coward!" Bierrez was shaking with rage at the injustice and cowardice of his enemy, but would not let Kharl see him this way. It would merely please the alchemist further.  
  
Carrying his limp right hand in his left, Bierrez started on up the decaying staircase, taking care not to slip or fall and thus increase his anger and Kharl's amusement. His pride would not let him. Even so, it was a slow process, picking a path up the debris littered flight of desecrated steps, but finally, Bierrez saw a small corridor that disappeared into the shadow of the castle. With renewed motivation, the demon leapt over the last few stone blocks and landed neatly in the center of the hall, smirking in triumph.  
  
"That was easy," he said with almost childish pride.  
  
"A little too easy, wouldn't you say, Bierrez?"

Yellow eyes gleamed in the darkness of the far end of the hall, seeming almost to smile, "You didn't really think you could get in here without me letting you in like the dog you are? I was sure your mind had matured beyond that point of idiocy, although you may yet prove me wrong, my little pet."  
  
Bierrez whirled around to face his foe, "Kharl! You spineless little toad! How could you do this to me? How could you control me like this!? How could you...!?"  
  
"Now, now, one question at a time," Kharl said as he emerged from the shroud of shadow and dust that had hidden him so well, "And I will not be addressed that way, Bierrez. You will call me by my proper title, or you will suffer in ways that even you, someone with much experience in the ways of torture, can even begin to fathom."  
  
Bierrez crossed his arms in defiant response, making a profane gesture with his left hand beneath his elbow, lip curled in frustration.  
  
"That was uncalled for," Kharl said silkily, "It only proves your childishness." Brushing his white hair from his eyes, the alchemist murmured the words of a spell to bind and twist, to wrench and tear, to extract the haughtiness that Bierrez possessed and transform it to a more manageable state...like pain, perhaps.

As Kharl became absorbed in weaving his curse, Bierrez noticed the lack of commentary from him and considered striking the alchemist while he was in the middle of his spell. His only hesitation was his honor, which screamed at him that what he intended to do was just as low and cowardly as the trick Kharl had used on him earlier, the one that rendered his main weapon useless.  
  
Well, anything worth fighting for is worth fighting dirty for, Bierrez thought with relish. He told his pride to go and stuff it somewhere and prepared to slash at Kharl's catlike yellow eyes, which were so intensely focused and blazing with a power greater than Bierrez had seen in a long time. The arrogant yokai merely dismissed this show of strength as a bluff and yet another facet of Kharl's deception, and prepared to leap with claws extended and tear out the eyes that had looked at him with more contempt then he cared to remember.  
  
"Kharl! Your time has come! Die!" Bierrez screamed, his voice echoing off the thick stone walls. He ran a few paces and, gathering his strength, jumped straight at Kharl. The demon alchemist stood with stunning calm, and as Bierrez sped closer, he thought he could make out the faintest trace of a sinister smile drawn across his enemy's lips.  
  
At just the right moment, before Bierrez could strike, Kharl's hand flashed from the folds of his black robes and snatched the demon right out of the stale air, holding him a good two feet off the ground and tightening his deathlike grip around Bierrez's delicate neck. As the captive yokai choked and writhed, Kharl brought his face near and whispered words that made Bierrez's blood run cold.  
  
"My time came an eternity ago,"  
  
Bierrez's green eyes widened in disbelief and he clutched at Kharl's icy hand like a frightened animal, trying to remove them from his throat. He was losing air at an alarming rate; if he could not free himself soon, all his efforts to achieve revenge were in vain. The smirk that crawled over Kharl's face as he watched him suffer only intensified his struggle...but he could only hold out for so long.  
  
Damn it. Bierrez thought. His mind was fading quickly, and his claws fell limp at his sides, which had stopped heaving. An inauspicious stillness had washed over the once spirited yokai, rendering his body weak and helpless and his mind clouded with dull, throbbing pain.  
  
...I couldn't even touch him...  
  
...pathetic...  
  
...I'm such a weakling...just let me die already...  
  
He cursed himself over and over again, hoping to fill the ever widening void growing within his soul, but he knew his time was up. The defeated demon closed his eyes, shutting out the triumph that flooded over Kharl's face, letting his head fall back and his body relax until it was cold and static. His lungs drew no breath; the only movement was a light breeze that found its way into the desolate hall of the castle and ruffled the orange strands of his hair.  
  
Kharl smiled slyly, and loosened his grip around Bierrez's neck. The yokai fell to the ground with a soft thud, stirring up small clouds of dust and dirt. Turning away, Kharl called to his bird, stretching out an arm for it to land on, and stroked its unkempt head as though nothing had happened.  
  
"He was a fool, Right Bird," the alchemist said, "but a brave one, I'll give him that. To try to confront me in my own domain, well, it seems as though Bierrez didn't think much of my power, no, that he did not." The demon shut his eyes, making a sound like a stifled laugh.  
  
"He is dead to me now."  
  
Right Bird burbled plaintively, and began to preen itself. Kharl made no further comments on the crumpled from of the yokai behind him, and proceeded to the front entrance that had accepted a brash and vengeful Bierrez only minutes before. He opened the door without difficulty, the drying blood of its latest victim still clinging to the rusted handle, and slammed it shut without so much as a backward glance. The only traces of Kharl's presence were a few black and red feathers drifting in the diminishing zephyr and light footprints in the dust on the floor of the citadel.  
  
The beings of the living world would experience never again a demon with such a taste for blood and revenge as that of Bierrez; not when his cold body lay flaccid like a rag doll in the heart of his enemy's stronghold; not when his tainted lifeblood ran more and more sluggish with each second that passed; not when his once bright features rested motionless in the stagnant air that caressed his face. But perhaps when an inexplicable phantom withdrew from a large shadow in the stone wall, scarlet eyes radiating curiosity and anger as it knelt beside Bierrez, running graceful fingers through his limp hair; perhaps the coming of this creature could restore the soul of the dead yokai. Perhaps Bierrez could live again...  
  
...perhaps...


	3. Chapter Three

"My lord! Lykoleon, wait!"  
  
The blond dragon turned at the sound of his name, green eyes smiling when he recognized the worried face of white officer Alfeegi. "What is it? Did Thatz rob the kitchens again?"  
  
Alfeegi shook his head, trying to catch his breath. He had run all the way from the Dragon Knight's sleeping quarters when he found the hastily scribbled note pinned to Rath's pillow, explaining the knight's need to "take care of somehthing." Alfeegi had searched everywhere for Rath, to no avail; the knight of fire was gone, along with a hefty amount of food from Thatz's "secret" stash and Lykoleon's sword of light. Strangely enough, the dragon Fire was left behind.  
  
Panting, the dragon officer managed to gasp out, "He...he's gone, your majesty. Rath. He left...and took...your sword." Alfeegi leaned heavily against a wall as he waited for the dragon lord's response. His respite was brief.  
  
Lykoleon rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Is that so? I sure hope he took enough to eat, and a warm blanket. Did he say when he would be back?" He watched placidly as Alfeegi listened open mouthed and staring, about to protest. Raising a hand to curb the surge of questions about to erupt from the dragon officer, Lykoleon explained, "Rath is as free as you and I, Alfeegi, he may go and see to his own matters as he pleases. Be grateful he left a notice telling us of his intentions, vague though they are. No doubt Rath is out for a bit of the usual demon hunting, but it makes me wonder..."  
  
Miffed, Alfeegi crossed his arms protectively and glared at nothing in particular. "What's so peculiar about him leaving without written permission?"  
  
"It's not that..."  
  
"What then?"  
  
Lykoleon waved his hand dismissively, "Oh, nothing." The dragon lord turned to leave, but stopped short, rethinking his reply. Without looking at Alfeegi, he said in a low voice, "It's just that Rath is changing. Something deep inside him has awakened, and now he seeks to discover it. I can only hope Rath is up to the challenge of overcoming the malicious force within himself, and will be able to remember who his true friends are, where his real home lies."  
  
Having said what was needed, Lykoleon would have strode away right then had Alfeegi's shaking hand not clutched shoulder, forcing him to remain. "Alfeegi...?"  
  
"Tell me," the white dragon officer said in a quavering but inquisitive tone, "what do you mean? I have sensed nothing from Rath, and I'm sure none of the other officers have either. Tell me more, my lord, please."  
  
He released Lykoleon's shoulder as the dragon lord turned around, bringing his fair face uncomfortably close. "I cannot tell you the identities of my sources, but I can tell you this: the power Rath must face is his alone to discover and overwhelm. It is a being of strength and skill, of deceit and shadow, of ruthless nature and cold blood."  
  
"But," Alfeegi asked earnestly, "how do you know this? You tell me everything except what I want to know. What does this thing look like?"  
  
Stepping away, Lykoleon looked at Alfeegi, whose turquoise eyes were full of questions and anxiety. Finally, he answered, "It is an elusive one. I know nothing of its true form other than a very old description," Lykoleon shut his eyes and sighed in mild despondency barely concealed. " 'To hear its name is to know fear. To see its face is to know death.' "he recited.  
  
The color drained out of Alfeegi's already pale features at these words, leaving him shaking like a brittle leaf in a windstorm. For once, the white officer had no reply to the dragon lord he so admired and protected, the one who had always smiled no matter what and never failed to be the upstanding, honest person Alfeegi had always strived to be. But now, with Lykoleon hiding so many things from his closest official, his closest friend, the first traces of doubt and a growing feeling of betrayal had begun to seep slowly into Alfeegi's mind, poisoning his trust and raising suspicion in its place. Lykoleon had always told him everything, no matter what. He was his most trusted official, and Alfeegi had taken pride in that fact. But what was he now? If Lykoleon wouldn't tell him something this important, how could Alfeegi be expected to help him? Didn't the lord trust him anymore?  
  
As the dragon lord proceeded to go about his daily business in the castle, the white officer stood like a stone where he had been left, contemplating every word that had passed between himself and Lykoleon, every expression, every potential lie and misgiving, until he was so imbued with sadness and regret that he could scarcely hold back the tears. Alfeegi wiped his eyes and forced himself to move and get to work, for there was much to be done, but his mind would not be prevented from replaying Lykoleon's words all over again.  
  
"Oh, nothing,"  
  
"...who his true friends are, where his real home lies,"  
  
"I cannot tell you the identities of my sources..."  
  
"To hear its name is to know fear. To see its face is to know death."  
  
A fierce wind rushed through the long, whip-like grass that covered the hilly ground like a blanket of ever shifting greens and browns, its continuity broken only by sharp outcroppings of jet black rock that dotted the knolls like the teeth of a giant demon. It was a cold, inhospitable place, with overcast skies and mists that could grow so thick, even the most seasoned travelers would be lost in its depths, doomed to wander the wilderness alone. It was lucky that the miasma was thin now, for the gale let nothing remain still, but with the unpredictability of the weather in this part of Dusis, one could not be certain.  
  
Rath shivered, drawing his dark cloak tighter around himself. In the gloom, he appeared as ghastly and sinister as a wraith, wading through the thick grasses leading a dull, chestnut brown mare. The horse's watery eyes reflected her surroundings, and on her back lay a long mound, strapped lengthwise to the leather harness and swathed in a thin, gray blanket. A small tear had appeared in the fabric, and a lock of limp, fiery orange hair had poked its way through. The body of Bierrez.  
  
Lowering his head to the wind that lashed his black hair about his crimson eyes and threatened to rip the cloak from his hunched shoulders, Rath pressed on, making for the nearest rocky projection to shelter from the merciless weather. As he coaxed the horse along, he began to regret taking Bierrez's body from Kharl's stronghold, but an unknown something had told him to acquire the yokai as soon as possible, dead or alive.  
  
I only wish I had been the one to kill him, Rath thought bitterly, then I could rest peacefully, knowing my secret was safe.  
  
Upon reaching the outcropping, the dragon knight hastily wedged the reins of his horse between two large stones, and piled many smaller ones on top to keep the mare from running. Not that he thought she would go anywhere; the horse seemed content to stand and graze, regardless of the howling wind that lashed the grass against her legs and whipped through her mane like a hot knife through butter.  
  
Rath sat down under the shelf of black rock, weary with the journey's toil and his own mind's persistent hammering. The ride from Draqueen had been easy enough; slipping out of the highly guarded castle wasn't difficult with the kind of practice he had, but making his way to Kharl's citadel was another story.  
  
The major problem was the alchemist's annoying ability to detect the aura of another living being, be it human, demon, elf or yokai. While Bierrez had plunged headlong in the alchemist's realm to seek his revenge and met a swift doom at the hands of his target, Rath observed his mistake from the shadows and planned a different approach. He would conceal his aura by suppressing his sense of self, becoming a shell who knew only one purpose: to infiltrate the alchemist's castle and seize Bierrez, making secrecy his number one priority. Rath knew that hiding one's aura was a dangerous task, for once the self of one is hidden, the soul, emotions, individuality and personal memories are lost as well. Which makes becoming unhidden a formidable challenge, for one literally has to find himself again.  
  
Normally, hiding the sense of self is quite difficult, hard enough to prevent even the most earthbound minds from merely considering its usage. Not so for Rath. For some reason, his special life force allowed him to perform this maneuver without the slightest tribulation; the dragon knight never even gave it a second thought. It seems a chi such as Rath's was not easily lost or broken, but would it be enough to help him through the trials that lay in the near future?  
  
A sharp whinny from the mare woke Rath from his thoughts with a start; he had been dozing to the surprisingly lulling sound of the wind across the plain, which was beginning to calm to a slow breeze. Wafts of white mist began to cling to the pointed tips of the long, spear-like grass and gather on the edges of Rath's cloak as if it were the forlorn souls of long forgotten ghosts.  
  
"Shh...be still, be still," Rath said in a comforting voice, reaching up and patting the long face of his skittish horse, "Rest now. It'll be alright." The mare looked at him briefly, then went back to munching on the tough grass, placated for now.  
  
Rath leaned back on the rock, crossing his arms over himself for warmth against the iciness in his bones, which was only intensified by the moisture that had collected on his cloak and soaked into his shirt underneath. He glanced up at the motionless body of Bierrez still bound to the horse, and decided not to remove it. It would only be a hindrance if something attacked them; better to leave it as it was rather than risk losing it in a fight. The chestnut mare didn't seem to mind much, and Rath was too tired to do anything about it now anyway.  
  
The flight from Kharl's castle had been a long one, nonstop save for minimal resting periods that were altogether unavoidable. It had taken a lot of effort to make it this far from the alchemist, traveling for three days in utter secrecy, running between the shadows, trying to remain unnoticed until he reached safe ground at last. Rath thought he was somewhere east of Luwa, near the great ocean that separated Dusis from Arinas, the forgotten demon land. Though he didn't know it yet as he laid his head to rest in the folds of his cloak, Rath would soon discover a visitor from the continent of Arinas. A yokai, one that would reveal additional insight to the dragon knight's mysterious past, adding more clues as to what exactly was plaguing the black haired boy from the Dragon tribe, the one who did not truly belong, the one who was different.  
  
No matter what Rath had deluded himself into believing when he foolishly chose this place to sleep, he was not alone. A dark presence waited for the hour of his awakening with a tireless patience that contradicted the gleam of its hungry eyes, wringing its idle hands in anticipation for the morning.


	4. Chapter Four

A cool breeze wafted through the open window of the dimly lit study, ruffling the hair of the dragon officer seated at the desk piled high with papers. Alfeegi sniffed silently, focusing his remaining energy on writing his report on the kingdom's treasury for the lord. Although several days had passed since that fateful meeting of realization and doubt, he still fought hard to keep the tears from flowing as he thought of Lykoleon with his secrecy and evasiveness, and the fact that his best friend was deceiving him. The officer sniffed again, ignoring the moisture that welled up in his eyes.  
  
I will not cry, Alfeegi thought fiercely, I will not.  
  
No matter what the white officer did to control his emotions, nothing could stop the faint trickling of tears as they landed on the papers clutched tightly in his hands, smearing the fresh ink and wrinkling the parchment. Alfeegi wiped them hastily away, reminding himself that he had to finish his report before Tetheus came in to collect it, for it could not be late. His quill scratched frantically as he wrote the complex signs and symbols, growing more and more unwieldy as his vision blurred with the unshed sorrow of his troubled heart.  
  
A sharp knock at the door made Alfeegi jump, stifling a gasp as his shaking hand slashed a black streak across his nearly completed report.  
  
"Damn it..." he cursed. Oblivious to his tear-stained cheeks, Alfeegi turned to the door and was about to tell Tetheus to give him more time to finish when he stopped short, realizing exactly who had stepped into his cluttered office. Ruwalk leaned casually against the wall just inside the room, smiling placidly. His smile was quickly replaced by such a look of concern and worry that Alfeegi was forced to turn away and continue his ruined work, very much aware of how red his eyes were and how wet his parchment was.  
  
"Alfeegi!" the yellow officer cried, rushing over to the trembling form, who was trying desperately to hide his grief behind a mask of false happiness as he looked up at Ruwalk.  
  
"Yes?" he managed to croak. He watched in anxiety as Ruwalk cocked his head in confusion, contemplating Alfeegi's strange behavior.  
  
"Is something wrong, Alfeegi?" the yellow officer asked, flicking a strand of red and orange hair from his eyes as the breeze made its presence known. Alfeegi shook his head quickly, then turned back to his work. Though by turning away he hid his face, the white officer's hand still shook as it gripped the quill, betraying his emotions.  
  
"Just go...I'm fine Ruwalk," he said through gritted teeth, suppressing his despondency. Out of politeness, he added, "I'll walk you to the door." Alfeegi stood, pushing in his chair out of pure habit, and brushed past Ruwalk, keeping his eyes on the ground in front of him. He halted when a strong arm encircled his shoulders, and a reassuring voice whispered in his ear.  
  
"You can't hide from me. Come on now, tell me what's wrong, and I'll help you if I can," Ruwalk said, half-smiling.  
  
Alfeegi would have been surprised at this act of compassion had it not been from the yellow officer, who behaved this way with everyone in the castle, including Lykoleon. Alfeegi's body flinched involuntarily at the thought of the dragon lord as he tried to choke back a sob, loosing tears from their precarious perches at the edge of his eyes and splashing down onto Ruwalk's bare arm.  
  
Ruwalk noticed the sudden wetness, and tried to comfort his friend with soothing words, "Oh Alfeegi," he chided, slipping his other arm around the officer's slim waist, "you don't have to be so strong all the time. Not with me. You've been hurt, I know, I see it day by day. Your face grows sadder and your once purposeful eyes are blank. Tell me, what has happened to break you this way? Tell me, how can I make it better?" Ruwalk could get rather poetic when he tried to comfort another; it was one of those subconscious things that he paid no attention to but those around him sometimes envied. He was skilled with words.  
  
Alfeegi tensed up, fearing his shoulders would begin to tremble and reveal even more of his shadowed feelings, ones he fought so hard to conceal and forget for the sake of the ones he cared for. He didn't want them to worry about him; he didn't want their pity. He would sooner become an emotionless shell than concern his friends with his troubles, whatever the cost. Alfeegi's mask had worked so far with the other officers, he thought he had done a pretty decent job shrouding his sentiments with a pretense of cheerfulness, but Ruwalk had proved him wrong. It seemed as though the fiery haired dragon could see through his defenses as an eagle does through a glassy river, cutting right to the heart of the problem and shattering the mask Alfeegi hid behind.  
  
The white officer reached up and detached Ruwalk's arms, walking a few steps forward, his back to his friend. "There is nothing you can do," Alfeegi said, summoning all his strength to keep his voice steady and clear, "nothing."  
  
They stood there for what seemed to be hours, listening to the wind gently blowing into the room, the stacks of paper rustling and the pages of various books turning without the aid of their owners. A heavy silence settled and the air crackled with the echoes of Alfeegi's words.  
  
The blue haired dragon sighed, assuming Ruwalk had accepted his resolution to resist any help offered to him. Alfeegi heard the light thump of footsteps behind him, and he was about to turn and apologize to Ruwalk for his pathetic behavior when he felt a firm grip on his upper arm as he was roughly brought around to face the his friend, the yellow officer's golden eyes full of with empathy and...desire?  
  
Before Alfeegi could open his mouth to protest, Ruwalk closed the gap between them with one swift motion and kissed the stunned officer full on the lips. Alfeegi blinked in astonishment, and tried to push Ruwalk away, his body rigid and his mind mystified at his friend's open show of affection. Surely it could not mean what he thought it meant. Ruwalk could not be...no. No. It simply was not possible. But as the yellow officer ran his long fingers through the white officer's hair, trailing them down to his neck and tracing the form of his jaw with the light touch reserved for a lover, Alfeegi found it difficult to fool himself any longer. He could not deny that a hidden part of his soul took pleasure in this sudden act of love, and he began to relax, even returning Ruwalk's kiss, however shyly.  
  
The abrupt feeling of a flat, hard surface against his back made Alfeegi's eyes go wide with shock, realizing what it was.  
  
A wall? He thought in disbelief, where did that come from?  
  
Ruwalk continued to kiss Alfeegi, now that he had him without a way of escape, but paused only briefly to whisper a few words into his ear.  
  
"If you won't tell me how to help you," Ruwalk said as he caressed Alfeegi's neck, "I'll find a way of my own..." Without waiting for a response, he kissed him again, relishing every minute. It was in this moment that they failed to detect another presence in the small office with them, watching the tender scene with a mix of bewilderment and annoyance.  
  
Tetheus stood tall in the doorway, almost menacing as he observed the two dragons from across room, the folder in his hand awaiting Alfeegi's still unfinished report. He was silent, and his face wore the expression of one without the skill to voice their thoughts, wiped clean of any emotion.  
  
He cleared his throat to get the attention of Ruwalk and Alfeegi, who were still completely oblivious to him. It was Alfeegi who broke off long enough to see Tetheus, and the first to blush a deep crimson as he compared what he was currently doing to what he was expected to be doing.  
  
"T-Tetheus! What...what are you doing here?" Alfeegi asked innocently.  
  
The black dragon officer shook his head, "I believe the question is, what are you doing here?"


	5. Chapter Five

Bright flames encircled a gleaming blade, crackling and snapping with growing ferocity. It radiated with the untamed passion of a chained animal and the potential of an untested power. Slender fingers gripped the hilt, barely concealing the inlaid crimson gems as the demon swung the sword into an upright position, its tip pointing skyward as he yelled.  
  
"Fire Dragon!"  
  
Immediately the blade burned a vibrant red, flaring to orange then to yellow, finally blazing an intense white as the razor sharp edges grew hotter and hotter. Like the silent explosion of a supernova, the blade of the sword shone like a million stars swathed in flame and energy. Blinded by the light in his hand, the demon threw up his arm to block the radiance of the sword, shielding his eyes from the glare. Cautiously he dared to squint at the blade, narrowing his eyes to mere slits, for the white light had become so extreme that it blurred the outline of the metal and made the air around it shimmer with heat.  
  
It hurts he thought painfully, closing his eyes to shut out the illumination, the light, it burns!  
  
The demon tried to fight off the pain of the light, doubling over and dropping the ever brightening sword in the dirt. He fell to his knees, shaking and convulsing, wrapping his arms around his shoulders as if to keep himself in one piece. The light bit at his flesh like cold fire, streaking past and trailing thin streams of scarlet in its wake. Stifling a cry, the demon tried to make himself smaller so he wouldn't be hit by the brilliant arrows of luminosity, sitting helplessly as his shirt and skin were reduced to bloody shreds.  
  
This cannot be he thought in desperation, I am a Dragon Knight! Fire wouldn't kill...he couldn't...no! The demon buried his head deeper into his chest, trying to forget the notion, but it haunted him still.  
  
Before he could delve deeper into thought, he heard a faint sound like paper being crumpled, a crackling rustle somewhere his eyes could not reach. As he turned to look for the source of the sound, the demon was faced with a whirling inferno racing towards him with incredible speed. He watched in half realized fear as it stormed closer and closer, jumping out of harm's way just as the first flame licked his shoulder, rolling as he hit the ground with a thud. He lay there for a few seconds, mentally assessing the damage he had sustained and the severity of the burns.  
  
Nothing serious, he concluded, just a bit singed.   
  
He waited apprehensively for the second pass of the flaming tornado, but it never came. Confused, the dragon knight lay still where he was, afraid that if he moved, the blaze would find him again. Minutes passed, and the air cooled to its original temperature. It was as though there had never even been a match lit, much less a swirling funnel of flame, and soon the demon worked up the courage to rise and confront whatever awaited him. As he propped himself up on his elbows and looked around, he noticed a change in his surroundings that surprised him. Instead of the previous flood of fiery whiteness, a deep, fathomless dark plagued the land he knew must be there but could not be seen beneath as the blackness enveloped everything. He could find no sign of his dropped sword. Or was it really his sword now? Was he still the master of the creature it harbored, a master to the dragon of flame?  
  
The demon stood up and shook his head in despair. I can't think like that now. Not when I'm so close. After everything, I cannot let this stop me, even if it Fire won't help anymore. He sighed, recognizing his solitude, I'm truly alone now.  
  
To take his mind off things, the demon held his hand in front of his face, puzzled that though he could see himself as if it was high noon, he could not make out even the subtlest of forms from the darkness around him. Awed by the utter strangeness of it, he wandered aimlessly down a winding path of his own creation, not knowing whether he was really moving or not. The blackness swallowed him up without so much as a whisper, leaving not a trace of his presence as he moved along, purposeless. After a few minutes, the demon was about to sit down on the invisible ground and curse out of pure frustration when a sharp flash from the gloom at his feet caught his eye.  
  
Intrigued, he bent to touch it, but just as his fingers were about to brush its surface, it skittered away like a frightened rabbit, stopping just out of his reach. The demon frowned, but the little glimmer waited patiently, flickering as if amused by this game. Again, he walked up to the silver flicker, reaching down a bit more cautiously this time, and once more it darted away.  
  
Damn! The demon thought. He stared hard at it, glimmering only a few lengths from where he stood, but deep in his heart he knew he could never reach it. Not this time. Not ever again.  
  
To the demon's surprise, soft mist filled his narrowed eyes as he realized that he had once touched this silvery trace of emotion, had once held it through the raging tempest of life and time, had once known the happiness of having a soulmate. Now it was gone. It had left him lonesome and coursing with a sense of betrayal that burned far worse then any mortal fire could, accusing him of being cold, selfish and power hungry. Those accusations hurt the dragon knight, had cut his heart deeply, and through his anger, would not heal.  
  
I can change! the demon cried to the darkness, I can change! He gripped his head in his hands, shaking it furiously. A low voice echoing behind him was the only sound that reached his ears as thoughts bombarded his mind, arousing his curiosity and enticing him to turn around.  
  
It is too late  
  
He blinked, releasing his head and letting his arms fall limply to his sides What do you mean?  
  
It is too late for you now Without waiting for a response, the voice took form out of the blackness, materializing right before the demon's eyes. First only the shadow of a body, but it was quickly solidifying into the slender form of a somewhat attractive young man.  
  
He's not a human, the demon observed, looking at the sharply pointed ears poking out from the being's unruly purple hair, He's yokai!  
  
The other demon took no notice of the dragon knight's blatant surprise as he continued to take shape, his body taking on its respective characteristics as well as donning the yokai's own personal touches. Scars slashed across his body at wild angles, on his arms, hands, neck and chest. He wore a sleeveless blue vest, half open and hurriedly tucked into his black pants. One hand was on his slim waist and the other was drawn across his face, masking it from view. The dragon knight was sure that if he could see that face, his eyes would be met with a mischievous smirk.  
  
Tentatively, the demon asked, Who are you? He crossed his arms impatiently when the yokai hesitated. He didn't trust this creature, even if he used to be yokai himself, the aura around him was...evil.  
  
My name is Shi the yokai answered, laughing to himself. The dragon knight shifted uncomfortably, failing to see what was so funny.  
  
A long silence stretched between them. The yokai made no move to speak; it seemed to be waiting for the dragon knight to make the first stab at conversation. He waited patiently, tirelessly keeping his hand up to hide his face. After thinking hard, the dragon knight worked up his courage and voiced the question that had been eating away at the back of his mind as a moth does to a forgotten cloak.  
  
What was that silvery flickering thing back there? the demon burst out, the high ring of his voice surprising himself and the yokai, who stiffened noticeably, but remained composed.

You mean my dragon, don't you? Shi said casually. He brought his hand up from his waist and snapped his fingers, then extended his arm so it was straight as a wooden board.  
  
A dragon? the demon thought, could he be...a dragon knight? he dismissed the thought as pure fancy, conjured by his lonely soul to quell his craving for a friend, to be near someone like him. No. It's impossible. The only other unawakened dragon is Wind, and she needs a female master. This yokai...he cannot be a dragon knight. he sighed forlornly, but his ears pricked up at the sound of rushing air, coming closer.  
  
The demon looked up just in time to see a glistening spark of silver gliding above him, complacently riding the currents as it made its way to the outstretched arm of Shi. It was calming, watching that small glimmer. It was when it contorted feverishly, as if its very cells were writhing in pain, that he had to suppress a cry of anguish for the spark as he watched it twist and change.  
  
Shi seemed not to notice as his "dragon" took on a new shape, first growing bigger and elongating to the size of a parrot, torpedo shaped and sleek. Four short stubs pushed out from its sides, developing into legs armed with small but sharp claws, and at one end what looked like a tail snaked its way into existence. A thin neck appeared, and a triangular head with a mane of what looked like hair, yet wasn't. It flowed upward and had the same flickering quality of the dragon's previous form, for the demon was now convinced that it was indeed a lizard of legend. Long horns poked out of the mane, intelligent eyes brought life to the face, and a forked tongue darted out to taste the air. Last of all were the wings, which grew like a blooming flower and spread apart to reveal the impressive distance between its wingtips, batlike and elegant.  
  
It was a beautiful creature, and the demon was awed at its strange, yet familiar presence. His emotions were raging; he felt like he had known this dragon all his life, but at the same time knew it couldn't be true.  
  
But wait, he thought suddenly, why is it still clear? It's colorless. The demon watched intently as the dragon landed delicately on Shi's arm, searching for some hint of color, a tinge of blue, a trace of green. Nothing.  
  
The dragon knight was stunned. If a dragon had no color that meant it was dead. But the dragon before him seemed full of life, so vibrant as it nuzzled the neck of its master, that it simply could not be anything but alive.  
  
As if reading his thoughts, Shi said, You are wondering why my dragon is colorless and yet still breathes, are you not? he smiled, his lips barely concealing pointed fangs, It is because this is not his true form. It is one of many, but not his own. Would you like to see it? he grew suddenly serious, and lifted the dragon resting on his arm higher into the darkness that surrounded them. Would you like to see him as his true self?  
  
Shi didn't wait for an answer from the demon, for he knew it already. Keeping his hand in front of his face, the yokai recited a chant in a tongue foreign to the dragon knight, melodious and sad, but with an edge of danger to it as well.  
  
Between breaths, Shi said, Watch him. Watch my dragon, and don't look away, he chanted some more, then added, though I cannot promise that you will like what you see, dragon knight of flame.  
  
As Shi chanted, the dragon on his arm sat very still, moving not a muscle. Slowly at first, but growing faster and faster, a wind rose up and encircled the dragon, flaring its mane and whipping around its delicate wings as if it threatened to rip them apart. The yokai chanted more feverently, and the wind grew swifter until the dragon's outline was burred, making it appear as if it were beneath the surface of a whitecapped river.  
  
The demon watched, spellbound, unable to tear his eyes away from the spectacle. As he gazed at Shi's dragon shrouded in unseen wind that seemed only to affect the beast, he noticed a subtle change in the coloring of the creature within the storm. At first, only pale red tinged its skin, but it soon intensified to a brilliant sheen of crimson and fiery scarlet. A bright orange lick of flame blazed to life briefly before being extinguished by the gale, and the identity of the dragon became agonizingly clear.  
  
Eyes widening to shining orbs, the dragon knight blinked in disbelief. His mind must be playing tricks on him, and cruel ones indeed, if what he thought he saw before him was real. He tried to deny the recognition that swelled in his heart, tried to tell himself it wasn't true, it couldn't be true, but was proven wrong again and again as Shi's dragon took on it's proper from as the dragon of the inferno.  
  
Fire. Shi's dragon was the dragon of fire. And that meant he was a dragon knight.  
  
NO! the demon cried, running to Fire, I am the dragon knight of flame! He is my dragon! He ran at Shi, hands in front of him as he tried to snatch his friend from the yokai's outstretched arm, but Shi just laughed and kicked him as he came near.  
  
He is...my...friend, the demon wheezed at he clutched his side where Shi had landed the blow, slumping to his knees before the yokai, the true dragon knight of fire. He was gasping for breath; the kick had knocked the air from is lungs and left him weaker than a kitten.  
  
I...I need him, he continued, forcing himself to look up and face Shi, who still hid his face behind a scarred but slender hand. I don't want to be alone anymore, the demon said, recovering from the kick, I want to be happy again. Don't...don't take him away from me, not now. Please, I beg you! He inched forward and grasped the hem of Shi's pants, shamelessly resting his head against the yokai's knees and begging for Fire. Please!   
  
Launching Fire into the air and leaving him to hover above his head, Shi let loose a scorn filled laugh into the dark, listening to it resonating in the blackness. He watched the demon at his feet through the gaps between his fingers, snickering as the pathetic form tensed at the sound of his laughter.  
  
You fool, he said, you were never the dragon knight of fire to begin with. This beast, Shi indicated Fire with a casual sweep of his hand, was never yours. You were always alone, even when you were surrounded by those you call "friends." he emphasized the word 'friend' with a decisive snort, What kind of friends lock up one of their own in the prison of a castle, forbidding him even to walk outside? What kind of friends taunt and mock their fellows for things that cannot be changed? What kind of friends keep secrets from each other? With friends like that, your enemies shouldn't be a problem.  
  
The demon hung his head in despair, shuddering. All these things, all these accusations, they were all true. He tried to block Shi's words from his mind, but they only pounded harder, driving their meaning home. Any plea for the innocence of his former companions against these crimes was futile, and the demon knew that. Instead of making useless requests, he asked Shi a question on impulse, without expecting an answer.  
  
How can I be happy then? Without my friends, without my dragon, without anyone? How can I be happy alone?   
  
Shi was surprised at this, but didn't show it. He waited for a moment, choosing his words carefully. Finally, he answered, You cannot. But, you can be at peace with yourself. You can be alone and at peace with everything, without anyone to hurt you and without anything to disrupt your amity. He smiled. It was not a comforting smile, but the demon failed to notice this as he stared blankly at the ground between Shi's feet. I can help you there. he finished.  
  
The yokai knelt in front of the dragon knight, leaning on one arm and carefully blocking his face form view. Not that the demon could see it anyway; he was absorbed in his own thoughts as he stared down at the hollow blackness, not even aware of Shi's presence anymore.  
  
Abruptly, the demon took a deep breath, and said, You aren't just a yokai dragon knight, his hands shook with the weight of his body, you are something else, too. Tell me who you are, Shi. He kept his eyes low and unfocused as he waited for an answer. It came all too soon.  
  
My name is Shi, the yokai said placidly, and I am a dragon knight of fire. This you know.  
  
The demon shuddered, his arms and legs wobbling like he had just run for days. Though Shi was right and he had heard this information before, for some reason the second time it was relayed to him was like being shot between the eyes. Fear coursed through his every cell, his every nerve was charged with a terror he had never known before. The demon tensed, ready to run from the yokai, but was caught off guard when Shi's hand came down to cradle his chin, tilting his head up to gaze into golden eyes.  
  
Shi's face was crisscrossed with scars, but one stood out in particular. It slashed vertically across his right eye, all but disappearing in the thick mass of tangled purple hair that hid half of Shi's visage.  
  
But what you don't know, he said, lowering his voice as he brought his face closer to the frightened demon's, is that I am also your death,   
  
Stars exploded in the demon's head, pounding and pounding like a giant drum. His ears rang, his heart raced and skipped a few beats, and his palms were moist. He felt himself getting dizzy; fuzziness pervaded his mind as he fell and fell and fell in a hole of darkness. Shi's grinning face faded out, but the demon did not need to see the yokai in person to visualize him. His image was burned into his mind just as the scars on Shi's body were etched into his flesh.  
  
The demon screamed.  
  
Rath's scarlet eyes snapped open as his own cries woke him. He was drenched in cold sweat, the beads of it glistening in the faint morning light. His breathing was ragged, stretched between pants as he tried to calm himself down.  
  
"A dream," he said, running a hand through his black hair, "only a dream."  
  
Rath looked around nervously, but finding only the tethered horse and endless hills of waving grass and rocky outcroppings, he began to relax. He told himself not to let his nerves get the best of him, and settled back into a depression in the stone at his back.  
  
Quickly drifting into slumber, Rath didn't hear the rustling of grass steadily creeping up on him, the stealthy figure within eyeing his sword before advancing too close. The gleam of the blade was hidden beneath its scabbard, reassuring the watcher that its master was unaware of his presence. Silently, he traversed the rise between them with practiced ease, leaping over a small boulder and landing catlike in front of Rath's sleeping form. He peered at the demon's fair face, taking in the sharp features, the calm expression, the smudges of dirt from the long days of rough traveling. He inched closer, the locks of his purple hair lightly brushing Rath's shirt, flexing his long, slender fingers as he came to some unknown conclusion.  
  
Satisfied, mysterious figure cautiously prodded the demon to see his eyes flutter open, heavy with sleep.  
  
"Wha...what is it Fire...?" Rath said groggily, not quite awake. He flinched when he was poked in the shoulder by something in front of him, and wiped the blurriness from his eyes with a yawn. "It's too ear-..." He stopped suddenly. A smirking face loomed into view, only a few inches away from his own.

Rath was at a loss for words. Adrenaline flooded his system, and he scrambled to get up, but the thing in front of him put its knees on either side of his outstretched legs, keeping the dragon knight up against the rock.  
  
He started to panic, "Get off of me! Whatever you are, get off!" Rath's struggles were interrupted by two strong hands seizing his shoulders, their iron grip surprising him enough to keep him quiet.  
  
Scars lacerated the visage that took up most of Rath's line of sight, and he shrank away from the uncomfortable closeness of it. It seemed almost human, but clearly was not; humans did not have the slitted yellow eyes of a cat or the pointed ears of a demon. This was a yokai.  
  
As the dragon knight stared at the long, vertical slash across the yokai's right eye, memories of his dream slowly resurfaced, and with sudden clarity he knew who this was.  
  
"...Shi...?"


End file.
